Kidnapped at the Gun Show [Ransomed Hearts] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (18 page)

He smiled. “Maybe I can help you think things through. Talk to me.”

“What if I tried this for a little while, and it didn’t work out?”

Kale’s smile turned into a huge grin, and she was compelled to hold up her hand, an attempt to slow him down. “I’m just asking, not deciding.”

“Okay.” He made an effort, not a great one, but still an attempt to not look like a cat who just nabbed a prize pigeon, and Sara cut him a little slack.

“Well, are you going to answer the question or just sit and glow? I haven’t agreed yet.”

“If you change your mind, we won’t stop you from leaving. I know living with both of us might be tough. We’re not always easy to get along with.” Kale rubbed one hand up and down his cheek, a sure sign he was exhausted. “All we want is for you to give it a chance. We’ll respect your decision.”

His phone beeped before she could reply.

“Riley’s out of recovery. They’re moving him to a room.” A true smile flashed across his face. “Finish your sandwich, honey. We have a destination.”

* * * *

Cold. The first thing he felt was cold. Yeah, he was cold and his hand tingled. Something was seriously wrong with his hand, and there weren’t enough blankets on the bed. He should get more blankets before Sara got cold. Why was it so cold in the house? And where was Kale? Maybe he was fixing the heater. Riley rolled to his side and his body attacked. Pain slammed into him, and wondering what in the hell happened to him was the last thought in his head before darkness took him.

Light filtered in slowly, pushing through the black sleep and scratching at his eyes. He could hear conversation, soft words floating across the room from the dearest voice he knew. The woman he loved.

“Sara.”

He said her name, sure it had left his lips, but the sound never reached his ears. He tried again. “Sara.” It was rough, scratchy as hell, but judging by the footsteps, it was effective.

“Riley.”

Sara was beside him, soft fingers brushing over his temple, the sweet scent of her washing over him like a drug. She was safe.

“Don’t talk, just rest,” she said, her voice ripe with emotion, and he remembered the words he’d heard while on the kitchen floor.
I love you.
Were they true or a flight of fancy when he thought he was dying?

“Sara,” he repeated, his voice a raw croak to his own ears.

His eyes fought to open and she came into focus, a cup in hand.

“Here, honey, take a sip,” she said, putting the straw to his lips. He’d rather have her mouth where the straw was, but the wet drops he took in helped more than he’d expected. A few more and he’d be able to talk.

When she took the cup away and leaned back, he clutched at her arm, needing her near. “Sara, please don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, honey, just setting the cup down.”

“Are you hurt?” he asked. “What about Kale?”

“We’re both fine, just a few bruises,” she told him.

Kale walked up behind her to add his comments. “Doc says you’re going to be fine in a few days. The bullet went straight through without damaging anything major, and the concussion will take a few days to settle.”

Good news but still not the information he needed. Flat out asking would most likely lead to a perfunctory agreement and he wanted to know what was in her heart. He watched her expression, trying to see past the worry.

Sara leaned against the bed, her hip almost but not quite on the bed beside him, and her hand traced up his arm and over his shoulder to his cheek.

She leaned in close and brushed her lips against his. “I love you, Riley,” she said, her voice a whisper of hope shooting straight to his heart.

The urge to wrap her up and hold her close pushed at him, but his body wasn’t able to comply. The best he could do was drop his forehead to hers and reply. “I love you, too, Sara. So much.”

She kissed him again, a little more thoroughly this time, and laughed when they separated, pure joy floating in the air around them. When she reached out to draw Kale into their sphere, Riley’s heart tightened.

“You’ll stay with us?” Riley asked.

Her answer was everything they wanted.

“How could I walk away from all this love?”

Sara stood in the middle of the kitchen, hands on hips as she surveyed all the contractors had finished in the two months Riley had allowed them. Instead of replacing the one cabinet that had been damaged, he’d insisted she pick out a style she preferred. The entire kitchen now looked more country chic than man-cave sleek, and she loved the rich color of the wood as it complemented the glossy stone countertops.

Right on time, her two fellas came in through the garage and surrounded her, each carrying two full grocery bags. It was move-in day. Finally, they would be in the home they created together.

Living at Kale’s townhouse had been an adventure in logistics. While it was a nice place, it was originally a bachelor pad. One large bedroom with a king-sized bed and a regular bathroom and reasonable common area made a great starter home for one person or a couple. But three adults put a strain on the accommodations. Luckily, they enjoyed cuddling.

This morning, Kale had supervised the delivery of their personal belongings while she and Riley went grocery shopping. After a busy day of unpacking, they would sit down to a meal in the spacious new kitchen and simply enjoy each other.

“Sara,” Riley called from the other room, “can you come look at this?”

She grinned and followed his voice, wondering what new item he’d purchased. Both of them were spoiling her rotten. She knew it but tried to stay as practical as possible. Her heart was full to bursting, and every day, every minute, was a blessing.

Standing in the doorway to the master suite, her men grinned, both looking way too proud of themselves. She stepped into them for a hug and let them pull her into the room. The dark satin duvet Riley used on his bed was gone. In its place, a brightly colored quilt waited for her. Red, blue, violet, and gray squares covered the bed she would share with Riley and Kale. Her heart squeezed, and she ran over to flop onto her back in the middle of the bed, laughing and loving every minute of her life.

THE END

WWW.LAVENDERDAYE.COM

Lavender is a native Texan, and although her family has lived in many other states, she’s always called Texas her home. She began writing in elementary school, and by high school, she was addicted to romance and working on her first novel. Lavender worked as a receptionist at a veterinary clinic and as a legal secretary, before becoming a stay at home mom. On her one and only trip abroad, Lavender visited several castles and wished for one of her own, hence her penchant for fairy tales. She lives in Texas with her husband, two kids and a very spoiled dog. A firm believer in happily-ever-after, Lavender thinks everyone should have a fairy tale of her own, even if it’s make-believe.

Visit her blog at
www.lavenderdaye.blogspot.com
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